Free The Rosetta Key by William Dietrich Page A

before they do. I’m going to need Jericho’s help.”
    She took my arm. “Let’s go get it, then.”
    “Wait.” I pulled her back into the darkness. I felt our scrape had given us some measure of emotional intimacy, and thus permission to ask a more personal question. “You lost someone too, didn’t you?”
    She was impatient. “Please, we must hurry.”
    “I could see it in your eyes when the messenger told me there’s no trace of Astiza. I’ve wondered why you’re not married, or betrothed: You’re too pretty. But there was someone, wasn’t there?”
    She hesitated, but the peril had breached her reserve as well. “I’d met a man through Jericho, an apprentice smith in Nazareth. We were engaged in secret because my brother became jealous. Jericho and I were close as orphans, and suitors pain him. He found out and there was a row, but I was determined to marry. Before we could do so, my fiancé was pressed into Ottoman service. He was eventually sent to Egypt and never came back. He died at the Battle of the Pyramids.”
    I, of course, had been on the opposite side in that battle, watching the efficient slaughter the European troops carried out. What a waste. “I’m sorry,” I said inadequately.
    “That is war. War and fate. And now Bonaparte may come this way.” She shuddered. “Is this secret you seek, will it help?”
    “Help what?”
    “Stop all the killing and violence. Make this city holy again.”
    Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Astiza and her allies had never been certain whether they could use this mysterious Book of Thoth for good or must simply ensure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands for evil.
    “I only know it will hurt if that bastard who shot at us gets it first.” And with that, I decided to kiss her.
    It was a stolen kiss that took advantage of our emotional turmoil, and yet she didn’t immediately pull away, even though I was hard against her thigh. I couldn’t help my arousal, the action and intimacy had excited me, and the way she kissed back I knew it was reciprocated, at least a little. When she did pull away it was with a little gasp.
    To keep me from pressing against her again, she looked from my eyes to my temple. “You’re bleeding.” It was a way to not talk of what we’d just done.
    Indeed, the side of my head was wet and warm, and I had the damndest headache. “It’s a scratch,” I said, more bravely than I felt. “Let’s go talk to your brother.”
     
     
    “W e’d better finish this rifle of yours,” Jericho said when I told him our story.
    “Capital idea. I might get you to forge me a tomahawk, too.
Ouch!
” Miriam was dressing my wound. It stung a little, but her strong fingers were wonderfully gentle as she wrapped my head. The pistol ball had only grazed me, but it shakes a man to come that close. Truth to tell, I also enjoyed being nursed. The woman and I had touched more in the last hour than the previous four months. “There’s nothing more useful than those hatchets, and I lost mine. We’re going to need every advantage we can get.”
    “We’ll need to stand watch in case these ruffians come around. Miriam, you’re not to leave this house.”
    She opened her mouth, then closed it.
    Jericho was pacing. “I have an idea to improve the gun, if the rifle is as accurate as you claim. You said it is difficult to focus on targets at its farthest range, correct?”
    “Once I aimed at an enemy and hit his camel.”
    “I’ve noticed you peer around the city with your spyglass. What if we used it to help you aim?”
    “But how?”
    “By attaching it to the barrel.”
    Well, that was a perfectly ridiculous idea. It would add to the weight, make the gun clumsier, and get in the way of loading. It
must
be a bad idea because no one had done it before. And yet what if it would really help to see distant targets up close? “Could that work?” Franklin, I knew, would have been intrigued by this kind of tinkering. The unknown, which